Library 3-B


You decide that the risk of her waking up and catching you in something potentially embarrassing is far too great, no matter how much fun it might be. Besides, you could get busted in the mere act of taking off her socks, and that would just ruin the point of everything you just did. So with a smile, you pat each one of her feet and stand up quietly, intending to leave.

"Why did you stop?"

The girl, still smiling, eyes still closed, hasn't seemed to move at all, yet those quiet words hit you with the force of a sledgehammer, nearly tearing your heart from your chest and making your heartbeat thud rather quickly. Gulping past a suddenly dry throat, you turn to face her, a blush blooming on your face as you realize she very probably has been awake this whole time. Her cute blue eyes are open now, and they meet your own. You feel incredibly awkward, yet feel that it's only decent of you to try and give her some kind of explanation, so you walk back to your chair and manage to fall less than gracefully back into it. By contrast, she hasn't moved at all, and as your brain slowly starts working again, you realize two things. One, she isn't wearing the look of utter disgust that you had feared she would have, and two, the question that prompted this moment of extreme awkwardness. "Well?" she asks again, sitting up a little straighter and setting her book on the table beside her. "Why did you stop?" Realizing that this girl isn't going to call the police or use the scream that's normally reserved for axe murderers, you calm down a bit and merely say that she looked very cute sleeping as she had been and you just thought you'd have a little bit of harmless fun. "I see," she says with a cute, feminine giggle, stretching and curling up in her chair with a grace that makes you feel blocky and oafish. "Can I tell you something?" You nod, but the way she asked the question and the small hint of color creeping into your cheeks tells you that you had best be prepared for a shocker.

"Well, I... I sort of left my feet out like that on purpose," she confides, smiling shyly. "I was hoping that... well, someone would do... what you did." Your eyes widen and you feel your heart starting to race again. Shyly, hesitantly, she scoots her chair closer, sliding the footstool so that it is no longer between you two, and places her feet in your lap, carefully. "Would you... please... tickle me a little more? I liked how gentle you were..." Hardly believing your ears, you nod and again let your index finger trace along her sole. This time, the reactions are more fun to observe, as she lets out a sweet giggle and grips the arms of her chair, quivering with the apparent effort to remain still. She is apparently even more ticklish than you had thought, but you remember that she had liked your gentle tickling, so you quash the urge to slip her socks off and tickle her silly. Still, even the strokes of your fingers against her white socks make her giggle and squirm more than enough to satisfy you. Through it all, as your fingers tease her cute toes and swirl up and down her soles, she laughs, squeals, and bounces in her chair very frequently, but not once does she ask you to stop or slow down. You continue in this manner until a slight red color creeps into her face again, and you stop, to let her get some air.

"Hehehehe... oh, wow, you're so great," she gushes. Unfortunately, she pulls her feet back and stands up, but she favors you with a smile. "I... really liked that. I have to go now, but..." Gathering her book, she tosses you one last smile over her shoulder as she goes to reshelve it. "If you're around later, will you... meet me back here again?"

You nod without thinking, and as she goes off, you settle back into your chair with a pleased grin.

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